Most Precious
by Shaggley
Summary: What is the most precious thing Kim Possible has? It's her Kimmunicator? It's her wedding ring? It's the plaque commemoring her career? Or isn't something... but is someone, maybe long time lost? And if it's true... who?
1. Most Precious

_It looks like I cannot keep my hands off my keyboard and writing short stories._

_On the other hand, this will be arguably my last short story for a while, though; I have to work on _Go For The Teacher_ (if you want to take a peek at that one, check the last part of _Stop Team KiGo!_).  
After this one there will be a story that will keep us company until the end of the year, a story which is nearly complete, but that still has no name, and which will need **you** to get one._

More details to come in the making of (next chapeter)... now enjoy the story!

Buona Lettura.

* * *

**Most Precious**

**A _Kim Possible_ story by Shaggley **

In her old age Kim Possible, retired world-saver, enjoyed looking at the things she had put into a wooden box during the years of her youth; this time, she was looking at something into an old cloth sheet, and she had been there, smiling slightly, and from time to time touching the most precious thing she had, that had been there for the last fifty-two years.

Anyway, she was on her chair backwards to the door, and her two grand-chlidrens couldn't look at what she was keeping in her lap, only at her curved back.

One of them, Martha, was intrigued. Nanny had shown them only certain things that were into it, and she had never let her see the inside of the box itself. Martha had tried many times to sneak and take a peek at the content of the box, but it opened only into Nanny's hands, and anyway, even past seventy, Nanny was able to catch her and Michael in no time.

"What do you think she's looking at?", she muttered, under her breath, her brother.

He shrugged off. At eight, he felt like he was above these things, and he was hanging around with his little sister just out of habit.

But, in spite of himself he started thinking about it too, even if he didn't answer Martha's question – such a thing didn't look manly enough.

Martha kept staring at the back of her grandmother, trying to take a peek; it was strange enough she had let them open the door to her room, even if they were just hiding – or trying to – behind it, looking at the inside from the chink between the door and the wall.

The little girl put a finger on her mouth.

"I bet it's Grandpa Ron's wedding ring", she whispered.

His brother shook his head. It was too much... girly, a thing like that. No, it had to be, he thought...

"No. I bet it's that "World Saver" plaque they gave her in her youth."

Martha huffed. Yes, the plaque was held dear, it meant everything for her Nanny, all her stories she told them about her youth, but the wedding ring of her Nanny's husband was simply much more important.

Not for the first time, she regretted she had never had the occasion to know him.

Behind them, the soft noise of steps was getting nearer and nearer.

Martha turned her head and smiled at her mother, who smiled back, and crouched next to her.

"Trying again to see what there is into Nanny's treasure box, eh?"

She just nodded, looking very serious.

"Mom, what do you think is Nanny's most precious thing?"

Her Mom looked thoughtful, and she took in her hands a wisp of her auburn hairs, like she always did. Then she smiled again and brushed Martha's hairs with the back of her hand.

"I guess it's her Kimmunicator. The thing has worn out a long time ago, but she still helds it dear, doesn'she?"

Martha turned back to watch at the door, and managed to elicit the courage necessary.

She pushed the door forward.

"Nanny?"

The old woman on the chair didn't move.

"Nanny?"

This time, there was the slightest shudder in Nanny's form. She turned her head, the white hairs in a bun, and smiled weakly; her eyes were watering.

"You managed to sneak here without letting yourselves know, didn't you?", she slowly said.

Martha smiled in response, a slight blush on her cheeks. But she wanted to know; she took a glance at her Mom, who was smiling at her, and made her a sign of going on.

"Ehm... yes. We were wondering what..."

She pointed at the box, opened on the bed.

"...what is the thing you hold more dear."

Kim Possible tossed a glance at it and at the little small things scattered on the sheets – pieces of metal, small gizmos from another era, rings, photos.

She turned her head back to her grand-daughter.

Martha smiled wider, this time.

"It's your wedding ring, isn't it?"

Michael took a step forward.

"No, it's your "World Saver"plaque, Nanny, isn't true?"

Then, her daugther smiled, too.

"I said to them, according to me it's your old Kimmunicator. Am I right, Mom?"

Kim's mouth arched into an awkward smile; then slowly, she turned her head back and took a quiet glance at the thing in her lap, that she had been caressing for the last hour.

It was a simple thing, no gizmos, no rings, no plaques.

It was just a long strand of black straight hairs, gathered up by a green ribbon.  
Kim let her head rise a bit, seeing long past images, and let herself bathing in them for a moment; then, she took a long sigh, turned again her head, while holding the sheet closer to her chest so that no one of them could see what was into it.  
She had a guilty smile on her face.

"No." answered Kim.


	2. Most Precious: The Making Of

**Most Precious**

**- The Making Of -**

Unlike many other stories, I wrote this one in just a couple of minutes, trying to get it off my head and getting back to work on others.

The inspiration came from the last panel of the wonderful story "_The Prisoner of The White Agony Creek_", by the comic book artist Don Rosa; you can check the story here, [".fr/index_rosa_", it's the last one, add "eichtitipi:slashshlash", of course], and if you didn't know about him, you should definitely start reading there stories.

From that idea, I started writing about an old Kim, fond of her memories after a life spend fighting crime and living an exciting adventure, who know lives as an ordinary grandmother; after a lunch with her family, she retires in her room and start looking into her treasure box, bathing into the melancholy of a choice made fifty years before.

But, when i was about to finish this first version of the story, I realized that there was something wrong with it.

Giving up a life with Shego meant that she gave up Kim Possible, as well.  
After all, my idea is that of a symbiothic relationship, and withouth Shego there couldn't be Kim Possible.  
Yes, I can hear the ghosts of Canon trying to haunt me down, but don't be afraid... this is canon, this relationship exists.

Then, I removed every mention of a lifelong career, and I reduced her to your average Nanny, who can only bathe in her memories and live in the past.

The final question this story rises is: how could have been Kim Possible's life if only she hadn't give up the "wrong love" instead of the "right, socially-acceptable love"?

My answer is not going to come – I know what had happened fifty years before, and I know why Kim has Shego's hairs (in a ribbon, after all, and this means that they were intended as a present, maybe the last keepsake of her love, who knows?).

But I'm not going to write it – I have too many projects ongoing, more important than this, and I see no point into writing this.  
Unless, of course, I understand there is enough interest from readers to push me into it...

* * *

Now, about the other story I was talking about, it's nearly finished, but I just can't find a right-sounding name for it (it's pretty..mature, you know), so I thought that maybe _you_ can help me.

Yes, _you_.

You who are reading this right now.

Read the story and then think to a nice, neat title for it.  
The best title will be _used_ for the story itself, and you will have my nevereninding respect!  
And a box of cookies!

But if _all this_ is not enough for you, to the winner will go a dedicated Omake I'm planning to write after the story itself.

Keep your mind working, pals!


End file.
